


Two Steps From Hell

by osterac1999



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Gen, I wrote this in 45 mins at a creative writing meeting, Michael is concerned, i guess?, it's a fire idk, jake loves his best friend, rich is mentioned but not actually in it, set during the fire, so enjoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 15:18:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12938028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/osterac1999/pseuds/osterac1999
Summary: Jake had expected his night to end with a bang, not a blazing fire. Though, really, he shouldn’t have kept his hopes up for anything considering what had happened last week. Which, yeah, was a bit unfair to himself, but who said he had to be the happy, popular guy all the time? Society, he guessed. But honestly? Fuck that.





	Two Steps From Hell

**Author's Note:**

> I had a meeting tonight and we had a song prompt (Two Steps from Hell by Neverdark) and this was the result! So I hope y'all like my short-ish 45 minute typing fest!!

Jake had expected his night to end with a bang, not a blazing fire. Though, really, he shouldn’t have kept his hopes up for anything considering what had happened last week. Which, yeah, was a bit unfair to himself, but who said he had to be the happy, popular guy all the time? Society, he guessed. But honestly? Fuck that.

Standing outside his burning house, he couldn’t help but feel… calm. It almost seemed like the fire was purging all the shitty things from his life. Didn’t they burn down trees in forests to give them new growth? He silently thanked whoever decided that tonight was the night to misplace their cigarette.

He glanced around at the people gathered on his lawn, silently taking a mental tally of who he _knew_ was there. Of course, there was always the random straggler who decided to crash his party. Mad props to them, honestly, they were normally among the unpopular crowd. Who got to decide who was popular anyways? At this point, it seemed kind of useless. Maybe his entire life going up in flames had made him pensive or something.

Something still felt off, though. 

He did a recount of the people outside, and went through a list in his brain. It _seemed_ like there should be the right amount, but he felt like he was missing someone _important_. He started going through the list of names he legitimately cared about, and stopped short when he realized his best friend wasn’t in the mix. Which, now, was obvious since he wasn’t _by his side._

For a moment, he panicked. He didn’t know whether to tell someone, or scream, or break down crying because _goddammit he actually_ cared _about Rich._ Like he had when he first watched his house go up in flames, he felt a weird calm fall over him. Now, the solution seemed obvious.

In the long run, he would regret this. 

_Will you?_

In the long run, he wouldn’t regret this. If he saved Rich. He watched the flames rise higher for a second. There wasn’t much time.

He started walking toward the front door, ignoring the hands and voices trying to stop him. After a few seconds, he broke into a jog and just as he hit the walk up to his door, he felt a hand catch his wrist.

“Jake, what the _fuck_ are you doing?” He turned his head back to see Michael Mell- _when had he come to his party? That didn’t seem like his scene._ \- gripping his wrist tightly. “Don’t go back into the fucking _fire_.” This was the most serious Jake had ever seen him. He always seemed content with life, happy to go with the flow. Recently, though, he looked on edge and unhappy, which surprised Jake. What could have him so down? 

He shook himself from his thoughts and turned around fully to face him. Michael, at least, would understand what he was doing. “I’m going back to get Rich.” He stated calmly, carefully trying to extricate himself from Michael’s grip.

What he found, though, was the grip on his wrist tightening. “Why?” He asked, clearly stalling for time and- probably- trying to save Jake’s own ass. 

He gently pried Michael’s fingers from his wrist. He saw the tiredness and weariness in his face, and a kind of desperation he felt right now. Why did he even _care_ about Jake? He’d never been anything but an asshole to him. Tonight would be the perfect night for him to sit back and watch shit fall apart.

He caught Michael’s eyes again and noticed how… sad he looked. No, not sad. Heartbroken. He could kind of understand that right now. He had a sick feeling it had something to do with Jeremy, who everyone knew was Michael’s only actual friend. 

“He’s my best friend.” Jake stated simply. At that, he let go and Jake turned swiftly back to the house. 

He stepped up to the door, only a few steps away from the blazing fire. The swirling smoke and fire played with his eyes, and he pictured- for a moment- things within the blaze that shouldn’t have been there. Like demons or his own deadbeat parents. A whole hoard of demons, coming in to say hi and drag him into hell. Darkly, he felt he deserved it a bit. 

He could also picture Rich somewhere in the blaze.

He didn’t know whether he was dead or alive, but _fuck_. He had to try to save him. A crazy thought came to him and he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

_What if Rich set the fire?_

Which, would have been ridiculous, had he not noticed all of Rich’s weirdly erratic behavior tonight. He should’ve- he didn’t know. Helped him? Made him leave the party? But no, he was tied up in drama with fucking Chloe and Christine. He didn’t even _like_ either of them all that much. No offense to Chris, though. She was amazing and deserved someone who didn’t fall back into a toxic relationship every five minutes. Because, _fuck_ , he and Chloe were a toxic couple.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and turned his head to glance back at Michael. With the small nod and grim expression he got from him, Jake felt kind of confident. Weirdly, he hoped that if anyone spoke at his (probably inevitable) funeral, Michael would do it. He felt more of a connection to him than any of the vapid popular kids on his lawn.

Looking back toward the door, preparing himself for the suffocating heat and smoke, he laughed sardonically. His mind’s tricks had been true. He really was two steps from Hell.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!! Sorry it was so short... I ended it there and was like "well that's 45 minutes" so <3 <3
> 
> If you wanna come yell at me, my tumblr is @cuddlehoe


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